Behind the Veil
by Pforte
Summary: TorchwoodHP crossover: Sirius Black is not dead, nope, but it's close. He is, in fact, in Wales. Will Jack and his team be able to help him back into his world?


**Disclaimer:** Torchwood belongs to the BBC. The Harry Potter universe was created by JK Rowling and consequently belongs to her and her various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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**Behind The Veil**

"He doesn't look very alien," said a female voice.

"Neither did your mind-reading girlfriend," said a second voice. Male. Cockney accent.

Wait, wasn't he supposed to be dead? His head felt like it had been hit by a Bludger and his mouth felt dry and papery.

"He's awake." Another male voice, more pronounced than the other. Where the hell was he? His eyelids were struggling against his attempt to open them, scratchy like sandpaper over his sensitive eyes. When he finally succeeded, he blinked violently, trying to adjust to the screaming artificial light.

"Hi," said the woman. Almond shaped eyes watched him nervously.

He cleared his throat. "Where am I?" he asked in a voice he didn't recognise as his own. Too hoarse and weak, even for him. The room was smelling like disinfectant and there were strange polished instruments all around him. It reminded him of the Muggle morgue he had been in once. He himself was lying on some sort of stretcher, cold metal against his thin body.

"Cardiff." The suit the young man wore was as prominent as his words. He stood on the steps that were leading out of the bleak room. Alright, what was he doing in Cardiff?

"I was in London when I fell," he muttered, confused. Wales. He hadn't been half wrong with his initial guess. Almost hell and as dull as dishwater.

"London?" asked the woman and typed something into a metal Muggle device. "Which year?"

"1996. Why?" He would kill for a glass of water but that was the thing, you didn't betray a weakness to potential enemies.

"Well, buddy, that was eleven years ago," said the man with the Cockney accent. From the look the woman gave him this was something he shouldn't have said. He gave him a brief and decidedly crooked smile that reminded him of Ministry officials from the Beast Division. His face was a little sweaty and unpleasant.

"Doctor Owen Harper, by the way. You have a concussion and a bad cut on your chest. I stitched you up and numbed the pain, that's why you're not feeling anything. Here, have some water." Harper held out a small plastic cup. Slowly, he propped himself on a rather unsteady elbow, stretched out his hand, which felt strangely heavy and dry, and took the cup. His hand was shaking as he sniffed the liquid suspiciously. Water, definitely water. He took a tiny sip, tasting it carefully, and then downed the cup in one go. It revived him instantly and he was able to process the information. Eleven years._Fuck_. Moony would be pissed off. Another decade lost this time. But at least he was still alive…or again, which wasn't too bad all things considered.

His head snapped around sharply as he heard footsteps of at least two people coming closer.

"About time," muttered the Harper boy. A man in a dated military greatcoat appeared on the landing.

"What have we got?" he asked in an authoritarian voice, his eyes taking in the scene in front of him. American accent. This was getting stranger with the minute. The bloke in the suit stepped up to him and informed him in hushed words. Pity, he would have loved to know what they thought about him. The man in the greatcoat took the steps energetically and approached him with a broad and toothy smile and an outstretched hand.

"Hi, I'm Captain Jack Harkness. Call me Jack."

He took it; a firm grip and warm, smooth skin. "Sirius Black," he said demonstratively casual.

"Unusual name," said Harper, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He disliked him more with every word he spoke.

"I'm an unusual bloke," said Sirius dismissively. Someone sniggered. He looked for the source and saw a second woman standing next to the pretty bloke in the suit. She stopped as she felt his eyes on her. She had huge brown eyes that seemed to have a permanent _deer in the headlights _look.

"I'm sorry," she said in a strong local accent. "It's just something Jack would say." Sirius threw a glance at the Captain, who looked rather smug. "I'm Gwen, Gwen Cooper," she added, trying to sound cheerful. Sirius nodded.

"Ianto Jones," said the young man next to her. The name fit the suit.

"And this is Toshiko Sato," chimed the Captain in, moving over to her and smiling warmly. Her pretty face positively glowed. "We're here to help you."

Help? Help from these Muggles? How could they possibly help him? He did not see his wand anywhere near him, which was bad news. Eleven years was bad news, too. Anything could have happened. Harry could be in danger or dead already!

"I don't need help. What I need is to get back to London. Quickly," growled Sirius and swung his legs down the stretcher.

""Wohow, easy!" The Captain was instantly at his side, not touching him but holding him back with his commanding presence. "We can't just let you go. You were gone for over a decade. People will wonder why you haven't aged. Your friends and family…some of them will have moved on. They most likely think you're dead."

"Of course they do. They saw me die," said Sirius brusquely. The people around him seemed flabbergasted. The scene was strangely bizarre; the harsh light was too real and seemed to illuminate every little corner. Sirius squirmed, uncomfortable.

"How come you're not freaked out by this?" Harper asked, hostility evident in his voice.

The wide-eyed woman, Gwenwossname, came down the stairs, asking cautiously, "You died?"

Sirius kept his mouth shut, feeling naked without his wand.

"Give the man some space!" demanded Jack loudly. "Listen," he said to Sirius, taking a step back as if to follow his own orders. "We can help you. Run a search for your relatives; your wife if you're married." A short pause to allow Sirius to answer in the positive or negative but when he chose not to answer at all, the Captain continued. "We can even give you an alibi, if you want."

An alibi. Another Muggle term. Sirius was pretty sure that none of his friends or family would show up in any search these people could run but there was a good chance that his name was still registered. His name had been in the Muggle news and it was most often followed by attributes like _dangerous _and_mad._ Sirius wondered whether he had enough strength to Obliviate them without a wand.

"Or," the Captain continued, "you could follow me into my office for a few minutes."

Sirius blinked. He would indeed prefer to talk to this strange American alone because he seemed to be the most competent of the lot and,_ yes_, was handsome on top of that. Not to be trusted but quite fit.

"Jack, he's not strong enough," protested Harper.

"I am," Sirius said defiantly and jumped down the stretcher. The hard floor was cold under his bare feet but it felt good to stand. He felt a little dizzy on the steps but managed them alright. The room he had been in looked even stranger from the landing but these people seemed quite at ease within these bleak windowless walls.

"Ianto," said Jack and nodded in his direction.

"Yes, sir," Ianto answered and rushed out before them. Sirius understood what this had been about when Ianto came towards them a little while later, socks and a pair of shoes in his hands.

"Thanks," muttered Sirius and took them. Not his own, no, but the right size. Curiously, he looked around him. They had to be in the strangest Muggle building in Britain. There was a lot of metal and no windows, not anywhere, but a strange bluish light and obscure artefacts and machines were placed everywhere. Sirius was sure that he could get lost among cables, glass doors and grey cement walls. He saw a hand in a glass jar and wondered whether these Muggles were members of an occult cult, tampering with voodoo or other Muggle attempts at Dark Magic. Something high above them crowed and when it swerved down he saw leathery wings.

"Dragon?" Sirius asked appreciatively.

"No, pterodactyl." Jack gave him a strange look but walked on. Sirius read a name in big letters on the wall and memorised it for later.

Captain Jack's office was what Muggles apparently considered modern, meaning there was all the glass the outer walls lacked. Jack motioned to him to sit down and seated himself behind a robust looking wooden desk. Sirius busied himself with pulling on socks and shoes, collecting his thoughts in the process. How would he get out of this place? They seemed to be below the ground and only Merlin knew how many stairs he would have to take in order to see daylight. Apparating was out of the question since he did not know where exactly he was and what the surface looked like. And he was not in top shape, either.

"You look as if you have some questions," Jack said, smiling encouragingly.

"Yes, naturally. I wake up in a strange place that is supposed to be in Cardiff, where I had not been the last time I looked, surrounded by strangers and a pterodactyl. So...what's _Torchwood_?" Sirius pronounced the name he had seen on the wall carefully.

Jack gave him a non-committal smile. "It's more a question of who we are and, well, we're only a bunch of people who are not surprised by time travelling strangers like you. It's part of our job." He leaned forward and propped his head on his hands. "But there is something weird about you because you aren't asking the usual questions. You don't even seem surprised by coming back from the dead. Why is that?"

Sirius' grey eyes bore into Jack's blue ones in a duel of willpower, which Sirius, weakened as he was, lost.

"Fine," he sighed. "Time travel is not exactly new to me."

"So you've time-travelled before," stated Jack, as if to get the facts straight beyond doubt. Sirius suspected that the Captain had never heard of time turners and it was somehow alarming that Muggles had found a way to travel through time in the decade he had been dead. He seemed to have missed a lot. Maybe this was Voldemort's doing. He suddenly realised that he had not answered the question yet.

"Yes."

"OK." Jack leaned back again, his fingers tracing his dark blue braces. He looked out of time in his dated clothes that seemed to predate everything around him. There was definitely something queer about this captain as well.

Sirius straightened in his chair. "I'd appreciate if we could leave it at that. I won't inquire what your secret underground organisation is doing in Cardiff and you'll let me go. Easy as that."

"Should I give you this back first?" asked Jack and put Sirius' wand on the desk. He felt his heart racing. His wand! _Thank Merlin_, he hadn't lost it! Unfortunately, his face must have betrayed his eagerness. "So this is important to you, am I right? Now, I wonder what I could do with it…" Jack picked it up and rolled it carefully between his fingers.

"Nothing," answered Sirius honestly. "You can't do anything with it."

"But you can."

"Yes."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Let's skip the cryptic bullshit. If you want us to let you go, it's about time you volunteered some information. Owen's scans were clear enough, you're as human as the rest of us. But we also did a scan on this thing and it's only wood with a dead organic substance like hair in the middle. So what is it good for and why can't I use it when you obviously can?"

"Because you're not like me," snarled Sirius, temper rising. He did not like the tone, not at all. There was a dull ache inside his head and he was still too groggy to have this conversation, too exhausted from his time behind the veil. The Captain did not seem to be satisfied so he snapped, "You're a Muggle and a bloody nosey one on top of that."

"What's a _Muggle_?"

Sirius looked at Jack, thin-lipped and stubborn. The Ministry was after him, the Muggle authorities were after him, he was not going to be intimidated by one single Muggle. Jack apparently realised that the aggressive tone got him nowhere.

"Please?" he said, smiling impishly.

Huffing, Sirius slumped in his chair and rubbed his forehead, somehow hoping to get rid of the pain. "You wouldn't believe me."

Jack let out a short laugh. "I've seen things most humans wouldn't even think were possible, so why don't you try me?" So full of himself.

"Alright." To hell with the Statute of Secrecy! Sirius sat up again. "I'm a wizard. That's my wand. I can do magic with it. You can't."

Jack didn't laugh it off as Sirius had expected. "Show me."

Sirius' grin was without humour. "Tough, aren't you? I could use it against you."

"You won't," replied Jack, sincere conviction written on his face. His mood seemed to change every minute, which made him hard to read. Sirius was sure that he could not trust him but he would do magic if that meant that he got his wand back.

"_Accio_ wand!" Sirius felt the familiar spark of energy as his fingers curled around the wood. Now, something harmless and simple should suffice. "_Lumos_!" he breathed and the tip of his wand lit up.

"Interesting," said Jack, a strange gleam in his eyes. "Is it dependent on words, this magic of yours?"

Sirius was surprised by the other man's quick and analytic mind. He might have underestimated him. "Yes. But it's rather complex," he shrugged, trying to make the lie sound convincing.

"OK." Jack grinned like a five-year-old in Zonko's. "You're not the only wizard, I take it. Your friends and family, too, I guess."

"Maybe. Well, yes. And now you'll understand why none of them will die of shock when I turn up. Stranger things happen in my world. They bloody well happen to me all the time."

"Such as dying and returning from the dead?"

Sirius looked at Jack sharply. Still no signs of disbelief.

"I'm not sure what exactly happened. It's difficult to explain but there are magical, er, objects that are ancient and hard to grasp."

"You think you came here by magic?"

"I know I did." Sirius closed his eyes and remembered falling, falling, and a noise, like mad laughter, and someone screaming…and hexes and curses flying back and forth, jets of red and green light. Then there had been darkness, silence and _nothingness_. Sirius shuddered. "I saw death."

Jack's voice startled him, for a moment too real, too vibrant. "In the abstract sense of the word or are we talking about a huge demon with horns and a lot of very sharp teeth?"

Sirius threw his head back and let out a barking laugh. He went quiet when the other man didn't join in.

"Abstract then," said Jack dryly. "So," he added after a pause, "will any of your friends turn up in our searches?"

Sirius wondered whether he should just get the hell out of there or continue this interrogation. He did still not know how to actually leave this place. It was too alien and it might have been constructed as a maze for all he knew. He sighed. "I doubt it. My folks spend a lot of time trying to keep our existence a secret. But if it makes you happy you could run a search for…for one Remus Lupin."

Jack looked drawn between puzzlement and amusement. "Remus Lupin? You're not joking, eh? Your world is certainly creative when it comes to names. Alright, TOOOSH!" the Captain hollered. When the petite woman appeared in the door, Sirius repeated the name and she went off, looking quite relieved that he had finally agreed to do as expected. Sirius looked after her and only noticed that the Captain was watching him when the lack of communication became apparent.

"Why him? He is not a relative, I suppose."

This question hit too close. His deepest regrets and sharpest pain threatened his composure, so Sirius only shrugged and kept quiet.

"Let's go and see what she finds out," suggested Jack after a pause. Meanwhile, Sirius discovered that he felt quite hungry and that he could do with more water, too. But it would have to wait. After his time in Azkaban and the cave, he could easily manage a few discomforts.

The desk Toshiko sat at was crammed with Muggle apparatuses and notes of different sizes and colours. She was typing intently on a strange gadget with little keys.

"Not easy to find but here he is. Remus John Lupin. Born in 1959 and died in 1965," she said casually.

"Wait!_That can't be_. Remus was very alive when I…fell in London. He didn't die in 1965, we went to school together." Sirius' voice almost tumbled on the impossibility of the result.

Both Toshiko and the Captain looked at him in mild confusion. Harper and the that wide-eyed woman gathered around the desk, looking curious.

"The dates are correct," Toshiko said after a renewed search. "Maybe we could try someone else."

"Yes. Yes, try someone else. Try Harry. Harry Potter. Born on the 31st of July. Mother Lily, father James."

"None listed. What is his mother's maiden name?"

"Evans. She has a sister, Petunia."

"A match!" exclaimed Toshiko. "But she isn't married to James Potter but to a David McGee. They have three children, none of them called Harry."

Sirius frowned and looked at the monitor. "But I was at their wedding. She…she died in 1981. I saw their bodies," he whispered, struggling to keep his composure. "I saw their son Harry as a baby and as a teenager. He looks like his father."

"There must be a reasonable explanation," said Gwen from behind him and Sirius jumped. "Sorry," she added contritely.

"What is in London?" asked Ianto calmly. Right, he mentioned London. _The flapping veil. Harry shouting his name. _Sirius closed his eyes, willing the memories away. "Sir? You said you fell in London. Where exactly? What is there?"

_Remus_"Lots of things. Why?" asked Sirius, trying not to think of him.

"Our London may not be your London," replied Ianto.

"Excellent thinking, Ianto," said Jack and gave his employee an appreciative smile. "What if our friend here didn't only travel in time but also in space? This might be a different universe that is very much like his, only without magic."

Sirius' mind was racing. This was madness but what if Jack was right? The possibilities were mindboggling. "This is...er, what if the veil isn't what everyone thinks it is? What if it was a gateway of some sorts? A world without magic...well, this would change a lot. Remus would have died of a wolf attack as a boy and Lily wouldn't have gone to Hogwarts. James and I probably never existed because we're pure-bloods."

"Pure-bloods?" Toshiko asked guardedly.

"Wait, what are we dealing with?" interrupted Harper.

"Magic." The Captain didn't look up from the monitor, where new lines of numbers appeared.

"Magic?" repeated Harper stupidly. "You're kidding, right? Are you telling me that this nut-job here considers himself to be a sorcerer? This is the most ridicu--"

"_Silencio_!" Sirius said with a flick of his wand. Harper gulped several times but not a tone came out. His face turned red and he lunged at Sirius, who gave another lazy flicker of his wand and muttered, "_Locomotor Mortis_!" His legs locked together, Harper fell to the ground. "And it's _wizard_, not sorcerer," Sirius added.

There was a ringing silence before Ianto asked, " Can I learn these spells?"

Jack threw his head back and laughed loudly. The rest of the team chuckled or tried to hide their grins. Harper reminded Sirius of a crab, red and angry and squirming helplessly.

"This was amusing but it's time you released him," Jack said when he had himself under control again.

"_Finite Incantatem_," Sirius said and pointed his wand at the man on the floor. Harper scrambled to his feet, trying to look dignified but failing miserably. "Any doubts left? The nut-job will be happy to demonstrate a few other very _interesting_ jinxes." Harper only shot him a venomous look but refused to say anything. Not so stupid after all, this one. His survival instincts were intact.

"Sir, if I may suggest something?"

"Shoot, Ianto," said Jack, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Sirius eyed the young man closely. He had a pretty face and looked good in his Muggle suit, though he was too innocent-looking for Sirius's taste. Nothing like Remus and his dirty smile, the smile reserved for pranks and Sirius when nobody was looking.

"The only way to make sure is to have a look at the locations in question. I'd suggest a trip to London, sir."

"Good idea. That is, if Sirius decides to trust us," Jack said, looking pointedly at Owen Harper who was apparently busy biting back a snarky comment. Trusting them. They had to be kidding. He had just jinxed one of them and, although they had been laughing, Sirius had noticed Jack's hand wandering to his Muggle gun.

"Sure, I want to know what happened to me," said Sirius. And all the others. Did they save the kids? Was Harry alright? Was Remus?

Jack looked at the Muggle device on his left arm. "Too late to set off now. First thing tomorrow, Sirius, Gwen and I are heading to London. Ianto, prepare a room for our guest and get him something to eat and drink, he looks starved and thirsty. Owen, are any more tests necessary?"

Harper shook his head, still looking sullen. "Nah, just stick to water or tea, wonder boy. No alcohol for a while and keep that stick out of my face. Ianto, don't get him anything too spicy."

"No Mexican food then," Ianto muttered innocently, his eyes shining with glee since Harper had been on the ground. Sirius found this power play confusing. These people seemed to respect the Captain but they showed little respect for each other. Yet, they weren't motivated by dislike and hatred. They were nothing like him and Snape. "If you would follow me, Mr Black." Ianto looked at him with polite anticipation and pointed in the direction of more metal and strange apparatuses.

Sirius gave him a casual smile. "Call me Sirius."

They went down a flight of stairs and entered a rather desolate-looking corridor. Ianto obviously knew where they were going and Sirius tried to memorise the way. One never knew, he may have to leave this place on his own at one point. He was wondering why neither the Captain nor his team bothered with decorating or at least painting the walls, so that it might lose the air of a prison wing. Sirius shivered and gripped his wand tighter.

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The room was quiet and sparsely furnished. After Ianto had brought him pizza and orange juice, Sirius was left to his own thoughts. There was a set of Muggle clothes folded neatly on a chair, a narrow bed with white, starched bed linens and a striped pyjama on top of them. A small bed-side locker completed the picture. Sirius revelled in the realness and simplicity. The bed didn't creak as he sat down and stripped off his cut and ripped robes. He hadn't realised how scruffy he had to appear to these strangers. The pyjama was soft against his skin and light on the wound on his chest and he let out a little contented sigh as he tucked himself in. The linen smelt clean and he inhaled the soapy scent deeply. 

Would he ever be able to return to his world? He missed Remus and Harry already and the thought of having left them behind once again was a sharp stab to his conscience. He threw an arm over his eyes, not daring to switch off the electric light, for the darkness held greater evils than the brightly lit room.

Harry would have to grow up without him if he didn't succeed, didn't find a way back. He would miss his godson getting a job, his marriage, everything. A huff of frustration escaped him. Why hadn't he put more effort into finishing Bella off? Truth was, he had enjoyed the fight more than was reasonable. He had felt alive.

Hours later, Sirius fell into a restless, troubled sleep, waking every so often from chaotic dreams filled with grinning Americans, jets of green and red light and a darkness so profound that it threatened to suffocate him.

...tbc

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